Daisy, Daisy
by owlquote
Summary: It's a cold, cold night, and a homeless Sarah suddenly finds herself freezing in front of a mysterious building. The deal the Goblin King has made with a monster has unwittingly brought her here.


_So… Christmas is coming, and I find myself trapped in my room with a bucket next to me because I keep vomitting thanks to severe food poisoning. I am tired, haha, but restless. This short story was not beta-ed, which is probably why it may be a little bad… but hey... that's what the delete button is for..._

* * *

She shivered in the little slip of coat, raggedy scarf pulled tightly around her nose. Around her, the air was thick with the fragrance of baked cookies and pine, the little lights around the lampposts fluttering between colours. There were Christmas carols playing on loudspeakers but… they weren't for her.

Sarah hid another hacking cough in the folds of her coat and slumped over on the park bench. Her hands were flaky, dry from the frigid air and blistering from exposure to the raw weather; red welts splitting open on her palms. She was hungry and her stomach was already keening for something to eat— but it was eight. All the soup kitchens would be overcrowded.

Sarah closed her eyes. The years had been hard on her. Her father died from prostrate cancer, and when Sarah came back from college one holiday, she was surprised to see Irene gone— and Toby taken with her. Since then, she had been bouncing from vocation to vocation. It was a struggle; hard, but manageable. However, when a car accident sucked all her funds dry, she found herself evicted with nowhere to go.

Now it was Christmas, and Sarah had nothing.

She closed her eyes briefly and stood up. A sudden wave of dizziness overcame her, and the last sensation Sarah felt before blacking out was falling…

* * *

It was snowing. Hard.

The land was blanketed in brutal white and Sarah wept into her frostbitten hands.

It was so… cold. She was shaking so hard— too hard, her teeth clashing violently against each other as her bones rattled in the bitter chill. The wind threatened to uproot her, constantly flinging tiny darts of snow into her eyes, gnawing agonisingly at her cheeks. Where was she? Wasn't she on a street just a minute ago…?

In front of her loomed a small building— what exactly, the storm did not allow her to see, but she was so cold that tears were running down her numb cheeks. She had no choice. She stumbled and half-fell into the snow, dragging herself up and forcing herself to move quickly. Just a little more… she whispered to herself.

Just a little further…

* * *

The day had been disastrous for the Goblin King.

His neighbouring kingdom, Mon Pirith, recently announced plans to build a weapon that threatened not only the sanctity of his kingdom, but the entire Belt of the Aqosįs Archipelago. Their excuses for such a super-weapon grated on him, and that, combined with the pressure of the Reine Authority to dissolve his deceased father's harem, drove him out of the Grotesquery and onto the Vault Road with nothing but his sword and his favoured steed.

He did the only thing he felt like doing at that moment: riding hard, and far, far away. Asfaloth panted beneath him, his flank matted with sweat as his muscles moved quickly in a steady gallop. The wind whipped past his feathery hair and ran over his cloak. Something in the air smelled sharp, crisp… the lingering start of a disaster.

 _You smell that too?_ Asfaloth intoned inside his head. Jareth's face snapped downwards to look at his companion. "A coming storm," he said quietly. "Thinking of Irformé, my friend?"

 _She refuses to move to the royal stables— even for the birth of my youngling._

"How frustrated that must have made you," Jareth mused aloud. "But such is the notion of stubborn females; they will not budge, especially not for you."

 _Of which you are no stranger_.

Jareth scoffed and flicked his reins, patting his old friend on the head. "I'm glad you've found something to hold over my head, Asfaloth. Obviously your luxury in the fields must be very droll."

 _You know no stables can keep me, Goblin King, just as no man can tame me— not even you, Star-striker._

A hard smirk wound its way onto Jareth's face and he said nothing for a moment. On the sides of the road, the trees had long withered under winter's arrest, going into their death-like sleep; some with faces of devoured nymphs still frozen in screaming shock, protruding from the bark.

"That may be so, my friend. However, the shoes beneath your hooves are inscribed with _my_ initials. The leather around your muzzle from _my_ leatherworkers, and your youngling will be birthed on _my_ land. I have no need to tame you, my friend. I do not wish to— not when I already have power over you."

Asfaloth snorted as they flew over streamlets and brushed into the Gaping Forest. Soon, large coniferous trees scaled hungrily into the sky and tried to swallow the clouds, their thick fleshy needles slick with ice and fatal venom. Creatures scurried and muttered underfoot, but all fled the sight of the Goblin King.

 _Spoken like a tyrant— and perhaps no truer words have been spoken from the man who moved and murdered the stars…_

It was Jareth's turn to snort as he flicked his companion's ears scoldingly. "Enough stalling, steed. Ask me. Think me foolish for not knowing where we are?"

Asfaloth resisted. _I will ask— not as your servant, but as your friend… or so you claim me to be, although we both know otherwise. My mare of this season lingers here in the open fields. A blizzard comes, and I seek aid for what I know will be a hard birth…_

Jareth roared a mocking laugh and pulled harshly on his reins out of spite. Asfaloth was jerked backwards savagely, nearly toppling over as the humongous war horse whinnied briefly in panic. In response, the Goblin King gave another shout of laughter before easily descending his flailing horse. "Easy come and hard to go, _friend_. In exchange for my generosity, what would you give me?"

Asfaloth recovered from his momentarily instability and glared at his rider in annoyance. At the question, his black eyes seemed to narrow and nostrils flare. _I give you my son, Goblin King. A foal of the Maneaters Race, a steed to devour mortals as you gallop through them come Beltane Night. No other creature has been given such honor— none but your father, of course._

Jareth stroked his chin in thought. Every deal had its ups and downs, secret trapdoors to imprison the moronic. "You'd give me his Maneater form, Asfaloth? Your son, who has not yet been born into this world?"

 _Not so fast, Goblin King_. If Asfaloth was a man, his grin would have split his face. Alas, the mythical creature merely settled for projecting strong amusement. _I said I would give you my son_ — _as the father. You have not yet accounted for the mother._

"Amusing," Jareth sneered. "And pray tell, what exactly is Irformé?"

* * *

 _So… cold. So…_

Sarah Williams shoved past the doors to collapse into the ruined building. It was a monument to decay, with slimy lichen licking up the side of the walls and spilling on to the shattered floor. She should have been befuddled, outraged… maybe even catatonic, but the only catatonia Sarah was undergoing was fuelled only by the cold.

She curled into foetal position on the wet flooring, fingers digging into the strange ancient carvings as she tried, painfully, to sit up.

 _Sarah…_ a voice cried softly on the wind. _Sarah…_

 _Please, Sarah…_ the voice called, weeping. _Please save my child…_

She gasped and tried to scramble up, ignoring the sharp flash of pain as she bruised her cheek when she slipped. Hobbling towards the voice, her own cracked when she called out. "Who— Who's there?"

 _Sarah…_ the voice sobbed. _My poor baby… help us…_

She pushed past lumps of blackened walls and rooms, hurrying down a corridor and peering into each and every room. Shadows hovered around every corner, the nasty chill lingering in old places; but still Sarah pushed.

Finally, she skidded down the last stair on the steepest floor, having climbed six flights to descend to this point. A large maw blinked before her, perforated with an inky darkness, void of any light.

"Hello?" She whispered fearfully, and felt more than heard the echo of her own timidity. "Hello?"

Something shifted in that starkness, moved sinuously—blue, her numbed mind briefly pointed out. There was a shimmer as the thing eased outwards from the depths towards her, moved gracefully as a creature in the deep.

 _Oh Sarah… you've found us…_ the voice spoke… although it seemed just as equally far away as it did when she was spread eagle behind the building's entrance. Something rang shrilly at the back of her head when Sarah noticed no echo following the voice. Slowly, she started to back away.

 _No… don't go… Sarah. I need you to save my baby…_ the voice pleaded sinisterly. The creature emerged into visibility…

And her eyes widened at the wide, carnivorous mouth, rounded with serrated teeth.

* * *

 _Considering how this story was written in the midst of me being delirious and sick, I don't know if I should continue it… if you think it's interesting, then… drop a comment! I apologise for the terrible writing in advance…_


End file.
